


Saved and Lost

by undersail2013



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Heaven, Hell, M/M, Rescue Missions, pre episode s04e01 Lazarus Rising, pre-destiel
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-11-10
Updated: 2013-11-10
Packaged: 2018-01-01 01:25:11
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,847
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1038672
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/undersail2013/pseuds/undersail2013
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A captain knows that he must make sacrifices if he is to complete his mission.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Saved and Lost

“Uriel, report.”

“Sir, Hell’s defenses are strong, but demolitions indicate a weak point not far from the subject’s position.”

“Balthazar, what do we have from Intel?”

“Not much that we don’t all know already. More demons abroad, striking seemingly random targets. But the evidence suggests that they are indeed breaking seals.”

The captain narrowed his eyes. “I’ll need more information on these seals. What about the brother?”

“No change. Demon Blood is still looking to propose a trade. We have eyes on every crossroads demon on the continent. He won’t be making any deals.”

“Thank you, Balthazar. Dismissed.”

“With all due respect, Castiel, I-”

“I said, you are dismissed.” He waited for the flap of wings to die out before continuing.

“Balthazar is correct about the seals. The archangels confirm that the first seal has broken and that the Apocalypse is at hand. In the words of the prophet, ‘The righteous man who begins it is the only one who can finish it.’ Time is short; we must move quickly.”

~

The demo team blew a hole in Hell and the warriors swarmed through. Without the element of surprise, however, the angels were quickly overwhelmed.

“Special forces, with me!” the captain commanded over the din of battle.

They found the way to the Righteous Man by the hordes of demons in their path. Even Heaven’s mightiest fell before the onslaught. And still the black-eyed sons of bitches came. Lucifer’s marshals would empty Hell to destroy this small band of soldiers.

Suddenly, Castiel felt a tug, saw a flash in the distance. He smote the petty demon before him and called out to his lieutenant. “There’s another way. Hold them off.” 

Flying was so different in Hell. Castiel half-flew, half-swam towards the bright light emanating from the Righteous Man.

As he neared him, though, Castiel drew up short. He had seen human souls; he had seen damned souls. He had never seen a soul like this one.

_No time,_ the captain reminded himself. _Acquire the target so we can all go home._ “Dean Winchester?”

The glowing figure paused, a hellblade in its upraised hand. “Yeah, I used to be Dean Winchester. Who’s asking?”

“I am the one called Castiel, captain of the northern Earth garrison and an angel of the Lord.”

“Sure thing, sport, I’ll be right with you. Turns out today’s my lucky day: I got a rapist on my rack, and I’m gonna teach him a few lessons about consent.”

“Dean Winchester,” he boomed. “You will come with me and fulfill the will of Heaven.”

The Righteous Man turned fully around to face down the so-called angel. “Sounds like you could use a lesson or two yourself. Sit down, shut up, and wait your turn.”

Castiel could brook no further delay. “You are wasting time needlessly. My orders authorize the use of force. Come quietly, or-”

“Or what?” the soul that was Dean Winchester challenged.

“Or I will drag you out of Hell like a petulant fledgling.” The captain clamped a humanoid hand around the shoulder of the Righteous Man and pulled him, kicking and screaming, from the depths of harrowed Hell.

~

The echoes were dying away. “Dean Winchester is saved.”

“Where are we?” the human asked, looking about the sparse, clinical room.

“Heaven.”

“I thought you were taking me back to Earth.”

“I will, but you need a new body first.” Castiel gestured at a table, the only furniture in the empty space. “Your old vessel is damaged and decayed.”

The human glanced at the corpse that used to be him. “Ugh, I might be sick.” Then, evidently confused, he looked again. “But if that’s my body, then what-?” He peered down at the human-shaped ephemera that was his bare soul. In Hell, he had appeared as he had in life; here in Heaven, all artifice fell away and he was exposed. 

Castiel’s eyes followed, drinking in the beauty of the Righteous Man’s soul. Even sullied by Hell, there were few souls in Heaven or on Earth to compare with that of Dean Winchester. It glowed blue, like bioluminescence on the sea; cloudy masses of Hell-taint strained against the taut translucent surface and were further obfuscated behind the opalescent sparkle of the outer skin. It was a soul that had seen good and evil in equal measure. A beacon of unconditional love; a soul that had grown by torment rather than wither under the shadow.

“Hello? I said, how do I get one?”

Castiel roused himself. “Building a new vessel is a complicated procedure. Not difficult, but complicated. We made a template of your former body before you were taken, but the raw materials for re-building human flesh are not easily acquired. The simplest method, therefore, is to merge your soul with the grace of an angel. Mine, in fact.”

“That doesn’t sound so bad.”

The captain hesitated. “I have to warn you, there is nothing simple about this level of spellwork. I called the procedure complicated, because it results in certain … sensations. Pleasurable sensations. Human _sexual_ sensations.”

“As in, you’re gonna give me an orgasm?”

“Hmm,” he pondered the word, agreeing. “If it helps, the feeling will be mutual.”

“Aha. Great,” he said, though he did not seem pleased at the prospect.

“As such, the process creates a strong emotional bond between the participants.”

“Like love?” he scoffed.

“No, ‘love’ is too mild a term. There is an exact word for it in Enochian. Unfortunately, the word is also a very powerful spell and cannot be spoken aloud.”

“Uh-huh. So I could fall in love with you.”

“Again, that’s putting it mildly. In some instances, the pair is permanently joined.”

“Like a marriage?”

“Not exactly. Unless I am mistaken, a human marriage is not a physical union.”

“So this is more like a Vulcan mind meld.” 

“Dean Winchester,” the angel snapped, “you can continue to make human references and I will continue to not understand them, or you can be silent and heed the word of Heaven!” 

“Yessir,” the human replied, contrite.

“Thank you. The point is that we will both of us be materially altered by the ritual. The mingling of soul and grace can have a host of unintended consequences, but in the most basic terms, you will be partially angelic and I will be partially human. For this … and other reasons, the angel bears all the risk, while the human benefits. And yet, I must ask you now for your consent.” 

“And what if I say no?”

Castiel sighed. “Unfortunately, in this instance, that is impossible. You cannot stay in Heaven- not yet- and I cannot return you to Hell. You are needed on Earth. But I should remind you that a ‘yes’ restores you to your brother.”

“Okay then,” he mumbled. Aloud, he said, “Yes. Where do we start?”

“It’s actually quite simple. As with so many soul-spells, it begins with a kiss.”

“A-a kiss?”

“Yes.” Castiel moved toward the Righteous Man, enfolding the human in a deep embrace. 

This was a kiss such as the angel had never hoped to experience for himself. A kiss to rival the greatest human lovers of history. He understood now why his former captain had fallen, why legions of angels had deserted their posts over the millennia, abandoning the infinity of Heaven for the tiny, cramped, dirty human realm. For these sensations that so overwhelmed the mind and spirit. For life and love and pleasure and yearning. 

He felt the human’s soul touching his, passing into him like a freshwater stream, breaking and reforming and breaking again in the ocean of his grace, grace and soul churning, mixing, becoming one, every intangible particle of the one indistinguishable from the other.

And at the crest of the highest wave, he raised his hand to the table and spilled the light of the human’s commingled soul over the ragged bones.

“Rest now,” he panted, patting the human’s cheek as it plumped to its accustomed shape. “The re-building phase will take some time and will not be easy. I will watch over you.”

Awestruck, Dean Winchester only smiled. He looked punch-drunk, only too eager to surrender to sleep.

The captain summoned a stool and perched over his charge. _I will be sorry to send him to Earth,_ he mused. _Hmm. That was a very human thought. It has already begun._ He wondered how this new human-touched grace would affect his duties. _Perhaps nothing will change._ But Castiel doubted that. Most angels who performed this ritual ended up falling, more for love of their human than for the loss of grace. It made sense: a soul would pine for its missing half. 

As Dean Winchester’s body solidified, Castiel ran his hands over the skin, smoothing wrinkles, removing scars, repairing bones broken long ago. He marked each ministration with a gentle kiss, smiling at the freckles that blossomed beneath his lips. "I am lost, Dean Winchester,” he murmured into virgin skin, “and in your love, I will be found.” 

At last, the Righteous Man awoke. “Is it done, Castiel?” he croaked. “Is my body done?”

“It is rebuilt, and it is glorious,” Castiel marveled. “How do you feel?”

He sat up, swinging his new legs over the edge of the table. “I feel … awesome. Better than I’ve ever felt. Happy. Warm.” His face flushed red, and he whispered, “Loved.”

“You are loved, Dean Winchester.”

“Call me Dean,” he purred.

“Dean? Dean,” Castiel repeated, savoring the name. “Dean. When you return to Earth, you will remember little, possibly nothing, of your visit to Heaven.” He saw a hope rising in those perfect green eyes. “But no, your memories of Hell will probably never fade.” It saddened Castiel to see the Right-, no, to see _Dean’s_ face fall. “When you return to your family, to your brother, you will call me and I will come to you.” 

“Call you? How do I call an angel?”

“You can pray to me. Or there are summoning spells. I will go to Earth now and prepare my vessel, so that I can help you to complete the work that you must do.”

“What work is that?”

Castiel shook his head. “I cannot say. I have not been fully briefed on your mission as of yet. But you will have all the aid I can render you.”

Dean smiled, and there was trust in his eyes. The human part of Castiel couldn’t resist stealing a kiss.

“Our time is short,” Castiel lamented, reluctantly pulling away, even as Dean’s mouth chased his. “And there’s another matter to discuss.”

“Which is?”

“I don’t know how to say this.” The captain frowned. “I have to return your body to its resting place. Your brother buried you deep.”

“I have to dig myself out of my grave?”

“Yes.”

Dean exhaled sharply. “I can do that.”

Castiel stared. “You’ve done it before.” It wasn’t a question.

A mirthless chuckle. “Yeah, well, Dad was nothing if not thorough.”

The angel felt a pang. “I see. Then I need not worry.” But his nascent humanity assured him that he would always worry.


End file.
